The Letter
by ladylou2
Summary: The day doesn't begin well and Boyd won't tell the team what 'The Letter' contains. Everyone soon has their job on the line as they attempt to solve the ultimate cold case and cope with Boyd's ever-present mood swings.
1. Chapter 1

The Commissioner strode purposely into CCHQ, swinging the doors as he marched. The bullpen was deserted, no staff to be seen, files spread all over the place, and a lingering smell suspiciously like Beef Chow Mein hung in the air. Both offices were empty too, blinds half drawn like sleeping houses.

He checked his watch. 8.45. So this is what the money went on - empty offices and chinese takeaway. Well, not for much longer.

He strode into DS Boyd's office, took a cursory glance at its general disarray and placed the official looking envelope square in the middle of the desk.

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Spence walked happily into CCHQ, after a few days break and way too much beer and TV, he was ready to get to work on a new case. He opened the door with a cheeky grin…

'Morning lovely ladies, I hope you didn't miss me too much…'

The grin fell from his face to be soon replaced by a puzzled frown as he took in the scene before him.

Stella and Eve were sat nervously at the desk furthest away from Boyd's office where a great deal of swearing, shouting and the sounds of destruction were emanating.

'What the…'

'Oh hi Spence, replied Stella distractedly, keeping her full attention on Boyd's closed door. 'erm… we don't know what's happening bit I presume its pretty bad news.'

Eve drew her gaze away from the office,

'He came in normal, went into the office and it's been like this ever since. If you guys don't mind I'll go down to the lab, quieter in there and all weapons are already bagged and packed away.'

As she left the bullpen, Grace walked in with a tray of coffee cups balanced on her armful of files. A worried look came to her face immediately as she registered the noise.

'Oh what can possibly be wrong with him already' she cried sloshing the coffee and she slammed down her folders.

'We don't know Grace and I don't think I want to find out' murmured Spence moodily 'we've just got in and he's managed to ruin my day already'.

Stella jumped at a particularly blind rattling bang. She sprang out of the chair and grabbed on of the coffees.

'God I need one of these' she said appreciatively. 'I don't think my nerves can hold out much longer. Thanks Grace, I'll…I'll take one down to Eve for her.'

She practically ran from the room, a cup of steaming coffee in each hand.

Grace sighed heavily.

'Go on Spence, you go down to the lab too; I'll see what's wrong with the monster of the Met now.'

'You sure Grace' Spence asked, hand on her arm, 'he sounds a bit violent today you could just come and hide with us.'

'It's fine Spence she smiled 'if I'm not down in twenty then send in for armed backup'

Grabbing the third coffees, he squeezed her arm and left.

Grace closed her eyes, took a deep breath and counted to ten. Steeling herself for the Boydscene awaiting she marched across the bullpen and flung open the office door.

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The Commissioner glanced up from the paperwork neatly stacked in front of him. 9.30. Boyd should definitely have received the news by now. A half smile flickered briefly on his lips. DS Boyd wasn't known for being one of the most docile of people. One could only wonder the chaos he'd cause today. Quickly replacing his mask of stern efficacy, The Commissioner resumed his paperwork.

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Peter Boyd paused in his general rampage and turned to the window. Wrenching up the catch he began to ponder the chances of his being able to throw his chair out into the car park when his office door crashed open, rattling the blinds along the wall.

'Peter Timothy Boyd, what the hell do you think you are doing' yelled Grace, Blue eyes flashing with anger. 'A regular bull in a china shop, what reason can you possibly have for … this?'

Boyd shifted his weight from one foot to the other, eyes fixed on the floor. Why did she always make him feel like the naughty child who'd just stolen the sweets? He was fifty six for Christ's sake!

'erm… bad news' he shrugged sheepishly, his anger suddenly quelled.

'Boyd! It look like an earthquake has struck in here, it better be pretty damn serious. Your team of hardened officers are cowering in the lab like a trio of whimpering puppies.'

'Yeah, um, Grace, you'd better sit down.'

'On what? You've upturned the chairs and the desk is covered it what I presume to be at least twenty case files and the remains of a pot plant.'

'Yeah well there was no-one to punch alright' he barked back, anger rising again 'you're the doctor Grace, imagine there's something to sit on, use your psycho skills to read my mind, tell me I'm wrong just like usual'

'There's no need for that Peter' Grace winced, regretting having ever got out of bed this morning. 'I'm simply trying to ascertain what's wrong.'

'Well don't, shouted Boyd 'I've enough hassle already without you trying to mother me as well. I'm a DS, I have a team working under me, I put murderers and rapists behind bars, I won't be spoken to like a little kid.'

'Then stop acting like one and grow up' screamed Grace throwing her coffee at Boyd's white shirt. Turning she fled the room, tears forming as she grabbed her bag.

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	2. Chapter 2

Spence and the team were perched around the examination table debating whether to go back upstairs or not. That was the advantage of being down in the lab – you could hear what was happening upstairs but remain out of harms way. They'd all heard the raised voices from both their boss and the profiler but after a particularly spectacular shriek all had been deathly quiet.

'Maybe Grace has battered Boyd to death with one of her own textbooks', ventured Stella, hoping to raise a smile.

'Yeah or forced every volume on Anger Management ever written down his throat', joined in Eve.

Stella smiled at the pathologist, grateful for her support but Spence sighed angrily and glared at them.

'Guys this is serious. It's not like Grace to scream back like that even if Boyd does it to her all the time. She's a psychologist, she understands things.'

'But she's still human Spence. I would have cracked long ago if I were her.'

Spence fell back to staring moodily at the table. It was going to be a long day.

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Grace sat in the car with the engine running. She had her eyes squeezed firmly shut and her hands had the steering wheel in a veritable death grip. She shouldn't have screamed at Boyd like that but he was just so…childish. They all got stressed, they all had dark patches in their personal lives, they all dealt with it. But not Boyd. He was just so…..

'Aaaaaarrrgghh'.

Grace smacked her palms on the steering wheel and turned off the ignition.

'Right Dr Foley, you are every bit as good as Boyd, as clever as Boyd, as experienced as Boyd and a damn slight more in control. You can go back in there and solve whatever case has got his knickers in a twist.'

Grace smiled to herself at that particular mental image but her face soon fell when she thought of the scene that lay ahead.

Sighing heavily, she climbed out of the car, shouldered her bag and walked back towards the main doors of their building.

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Boyd sat slumped in his chair, staring at the desk and envelope in front of him. If anyone had walked in his stare would probably have seared straight through them. There were so many emotions and scenarios pulsing in his mind that they'd all mixed into one big black cloud, then the red mist had descended and he'd just lost it…

He couldn't even focus long enough to make use of the Scotch in his bottom drawer. Growling to himself, Boyd continued to stare down the envelope.

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Stella peeked out of the lab doors, checking the coast was clear before darting to the bullpen doors. Sliding along with her back against the wall, she willed herself to look through the glass. Turning her head slowly, she opened her eyes only to be face-to-face with DSI Boyd.

'Aaaaargh', she screamed, jumping back in genuine fright before she could stop herself

'Morning to you too Stella', said Boyd, the hurt clear in his eyes. 'Now when you've regained control of your vocal chords, you can round up the rest of the team. Meeting in ten.'

Before Stella could answer, Spence and Eve crashed through the lab doors and into the corridor, panic on their faces.

'If he's laid a single finger on her I'll…' began Spencer.

'You'll meet me in the bullpen in ten', cut in Boyd coldly. He turned on his heel and slammed the door to his office once more.

'Shit', all three of the team said it in unison. Boyd hadn't reacted and they couldn't smell any alcohol. The day was only getting worse.

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_Detective Superintendent Boyd,_

_As you are aware the Metropolitan Police are continually seeking ways to cut our expenditure, reduce waste of valuable resources and maximise our overall efficiency. We are also seeking to recruit the very best of today's graduates to become our high ranking officers and Commissioners of the future. _

_The Cold Case Unit is relatively new. It has achieved an unprecedented clear-up rate and wrapped up many high profile cases – this is most commendable. It has also been in the public eye on numerous occasions for all the wrong reasons; deaths of officers, wrongful arrests and illegal conduct._

_The Cold Case Unit has been compromised in this way one too many times._

_As of today, the Cold Case Unit has been assigned the 'No.5 Case'. If the unit has not met its objective within the next four weeks then it will be closed down with immediate effect. Staff will not be reassigned. The unit has been jeopardised by malpractice and unacceptable behaviour and is, as a whole, guilty of unlawful misconduct._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Commissioner Christie_

The bullpen was silent. No-one wanted to look up from their copy of the letter. The clock was ticking.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the reviews and comments so far – they are certainly much appreciated.**

**This next section is a little shorter but hopefully the mind-blank will soon shift and we can crack on and solve the case yet again.**

**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own WTD and this is only my little attempt at making sure London has one less killer on the loose.**

The young desk Sergeant knocked politely at the double doors before backing into CCHQ. His arms were straining under the weight of the evidence box he was delivering, and his mind was whirring with a multitude of tasks but the tension in the offices was immediately noticeable.

'Yes', barked the tall man he knew to be the infamous DSI Boyd.

'Sir this, er, evidence box has just, er, arrived for you'

The young Sergeant was trying not to stare at what seemed to be most of a mug of coffee staining the front of the DSI's shirt, but Boyd followed his gaze and his frown deepened.

'Put them down then and stop cluttering my offices.'

The young sergeant placed the cardboard box gingerly on the nearest desk, casting a nervous smile at the team sitting silently around the bullpen. He hurried out of the room exhaling heavily - the black cloud hovering in there was so thick he hadn't realised he had been holding his breath.

'Spence…' began Boyd, gesturing towards the evidence box, before strolling into his office, making sure to give the door its customary slam.

Stella flinched slightly at the sudden noise but joined Spencer in unpacking their new case. She didn't want to give the boss any reason to question her work ethic today.

'Well there doesn't seem a huge amount to go on but the folder's still pretty thick' said Spence, sifting through a pile of photos.

'It might not be too bad after all as this forensics report has certainly got some weight to it'.

He tossed the folder to Eve, who caught it deftly in one hand, a playful smile on her face.

'Some girls _can_ catch before you say it Spence. I'll go through these in the lab so call down if you need me.'

She left the room, casting a quick glance at Grace who had so far been rather silent.

The look wasn't missed by Stella who immediately felt a pang of sympathy for the profiler – being on the receiving end of Boyd's ire was not a pleasant experience and they all knew Grace bore the brunt of most of his misdirected anger. However, before she could offer any word of support, there came the familiar shout from Boyd's office…

'Grace!'

Grace took a deep breath and smiled quickly at the younger team.

'Wish me luck guys, wish me luck'.

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By midday Eve had returned from the lab and was listening attentively as Spence went through the notes they had on the case so far.

'Originally there were three victims all killed in the same way, similar circumstances etc and believed to be by the same killer…'

'Drugged up to the eyeballs and laid out in their beds' cut in Stella.

'Yep, the forensics report mentions the presence of fatal amounts of Diazepam in all three women's bloodstreams, as well as the fact that they had all bathed immediately prior to their falling comatose' contributed Eve.

'Exactly' continued Spence 'we can get Grace to try and profile the killer from what we have so far, but the real reason for us being assigned the case is that the original team never came up with any suspect who could be linked to all three of the murders.'

'Thus explaining why Christie so kindly chose to present it to us', muttered Eve, foreseeing long nights ahead poring over deteriorating evidence in the lab.

'Uhuh' joined in Stella 'it's the ultimate cold case, no suspect, no motive, no anything. Spence and I are going through the details so hopefully there may be some line of enquiry we can make a start on.'

'Right, and I'm guessing there will now be a huge load of forensics magically appeared in my lab by the time I get down there?'

'You read my mind Eve' chuckled Spence 'maybe you can do their job for them properly this time - there's no way this is a dead end, not for our wonder team'.

Eve laughed throatily and left for her lab, leaving Spence and Stella staring at the information before them with looks of trepidation and consternation on both their faces.

Spence exhaled slowly and flexed his biceps,

'So, 'The No.5 Case' round one – lets see what the Spencemeister can reveal when he works his magic.'

Stella cringed and turned to face her colleague,

'Bad Spence bad, but by all means work it.'

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Boyd look up from the folder of information as his profiler entered the office. She looked tired and drawn, and he knew it was his fault.

'I'm sorry Grace', said Boyd softly, 'I know I shouldn't have taken it out on you again but no-one else will come anywhere near me most of the time, and… I was hoping you'd understand why I was so angry – you seem to every other time'.

Grace gave a small smile as she sat at the chair across the desk from Boyd and met his gaze before saying that well-repeated line yet again,

'I know Boyd; you feel the responsible for the team and don't want to let anyone down…'

Boyd sighed with relief that she recognised the pressure he was under, but soon became concerned again when he noticed the usual sparkle was missing from her eyes.

'But, it isn't fair on everyone else when you insist on throwing tantrums like a small child all the time. Its not fair for us to have to pick up the pieces everyday, and its certainly not fair when you decide to take your anger or frustration or … whatever, out on me every single time something doesn't go your way.'

Grace sat back in her chair and crossed her arms, if no-one else was going to stand up for themselves so be it, but she was certainly not going to let Boyd trample all over her anymore.

'I, I'm sorry Grace' began Boyd, genuinely shocked at the emotion behind her outburst, 'but to be fair you normally do hold your corner and shout right back at me, weren't you the one who so lovingly told me what a loser I was - all repressed, depressed, unloved and in denial?'

'But its true'

'What, all of it? I thought at least one person may love me just a little bit, for old times sake possibly.'

'Don't push it Boyd. You're lucky I came back in here at all. Now if you'll excuse me, I think we have a case to solve and a strict deadline to adhere to.'

Grace pushed back her chair and stood up to leave,

'But seeing as you've mentioned it, I think you owe me dinner tonight and at least two bottles of wine – for old time's sake'.

Boyd laughed and covered his face with his hands,

'Yes Boss'.

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	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! I know its been a couple of weeks but everything has been a little hectic of late. I'll try and upload the next couple of chapters this week.**

**As always, thanks for you comments and reviews so far.**

**Disclaimer - nope they're not my characters as the BBC has already laid claim to them, but the story is all my own.**

David Thompson climbed out of his car, exhausted after a long day of campaigning and speech-making. As he shut the door and straightened his tie, the now ever-present horde of photographers began taking photos and running around him like a crowd of excited school children. He groaned inwardly but fixed a smile rigidly onto his face as he acknowledged the people shoving cameras into his face and forced his way to his own front door.

'Mr Thompson, what do you have to say about the new Budget?'

'What about pay for teachers and policemen Mr Thompson, are they being cut?'

'Mr Thompson, over here'

David turned rested his hand on the doorknob and turned back to the photographers behind him.

'Goodnight gentlemen, I'm sure you'll agree I have a rather busy week ahead and would be grateful for an undisturbed night's sleep.'

He went through the front door and leant against it heavily. God, why did they have to be so bloody annoying asking the same questions over and over? His face ached from grinning like some kind of demented Cheshire cat for most of the day and he thought he may well throttle someone if they asked him about policemen's salaries one more time.

'Its nearly over David, soon we can have our lives back.'

He opened his eyes at the sound of his wife's voice. Smiling, she emerged from the living room to embrace him briefly.

'A few more weeks then you'll be Minister and we can buy a new car, have a party and celebrate.'

He shrugged out of his suit jacket and laid his briefcase on the hallway table.

'Lets hope so darling, lets hope so.'

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'Tell me what you've got on the map so far Stella'

Spence stepped back to examine the board thingee as his colleague went through the locations where the three women had lived, and died.

'Right, we've got Hannah Clements in Belsize Road, Kilburn' began Stella pointing to each coloured pin in the map as she went, 'Sophie Rawlings in Malden Road, Kentish Town and Rachel Hall of Platt's Lane, Hampstead.'

'Ok, so all roughly the same area of London but still quite some distance apart' mused Spence 'and all north of the river – Boyd's going to love this.'

'Yeah, what is it with Boyd and north of the river?'

'I honestly don't know Stella' confessed Spence sheepishly 'he just seems to have a grudge against it and I don't really want to delve into his decidedly murky past and find out why.'

'Point taken'

Stella sat down in her office chair, twisting from side to side as she studied the board thingee. She'd worked on tricky cases before, but the original team seemed to have done little more than write down where the three women had lived and been found. Four years on and they were basically starting from scratch again.

'Have you read through the original files yet' she asked Spence nonchalantly, desperately hoping she would be spared the tedious task.

'Yep, but don't get too pleased about it, this is going to be a phone book and knocking on doors job'

Spence turned back to face the French-girl, and handed her the Yellow Pages for North London.

'You do the first two women, I'll do the second. We're after any background information at all that could link them in any way.'

'Yes sir' smiled Stella 'I'll report back to your Royal Highness as soon as my astounding detective skills have picked up the killer clue.'

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Eve stood up and stretched her arms, slowly rolling her neck as she straightened up from the examination table. She walked over to the extractor fan and lit up a cigarette, feeling the instant relief as the nicotine filled her lungs. This case was certainly a cracker. The original team had come up with virtually nothing of use and with no exciting new evidence she had to go over each of the three bodies trying to find anything at all for the team to work on. No wonder Boyd had been in such a foul mood – Christie's little parting gift to them was nigh on impossible.

Taking one last drag on her cigarette, she switched off the fan and picked up the Dictaphone.

'Right' she began in her usual husky tones 'we have the bodies of three women of various ages between 20 and 30 years old. All had fatal amounts of Diazepam in their bloodstreams, no external bruising and markings, and no noticeable internal injuries.'

She crossed the room and perched in front of the laptop, quickly glancing at the tests currently running across the screen.

'All three had recently bathed or showered, judging by product residues on the skin and hair, within an hour prior to their deaths…'

Eve's voice tailed off as a message flashed up on the screen. She turned off the Dictaphone and leaned in for a closer look at the chemical names and quantities, checking the correlation of results for the three women.

Smiling smugly to herself she reached for the phone. Maybe they would have some new evidence to go on after all.

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	5. Chapter 5

The Cold Case team were all sat around the bullpen, ready to begin day two of their latest, and possibly last investigation. Spence and Stella were sat at their usual places, Grace was perched on the edge of a desk, and Boyd was standing next to her – all eagerly awaiting the information that the forensic pathologist had to tell them.

Eve pressed her hands together, took a deep breath and began.

'Right, I examined all three bodies and initially came up with exactly the same findings as the original investigating team – no bruising, external marks, or internal injuries. Other than the recent showering, only the Diazepam links the three women.'

'Diazepam, as in the sleeping pill?' asked Spence quickly.

'Yes, it's commonly used as a muscle relaxant, to calm stress, and as your generic prescription sleeping tablets' continued Eve 'only the amounts in our victims' bloodstreams were much higher than you would expect from normal usage.'

'So they literally just fell asleep?' butted in Boyd, a smile quirking at the corner of his mouths as a number of inappropriate jokes filled his mind.

'Yes!' exclaimed Eve 'now if you'd let me continue…'

Grace shot a glance at Boyd, luckily Eve's irritation hadn't dented his ego or else they'd all have hell to pay. Stella noticed the glance and smiled to herself – it was like Grace could read his mind half the time. The times when she couldn't, well it was better to clear out or take cover as quickly as possible.

'Anyway, as I was saying' continued Eve 'the cause of death was a lethal overdose of the sleeping pill, probably administered orally as with any normal tablet. But, that's not what I called you here for'.

She turned and stuck printouts of the three correlating graphs on the board thingee, placing them in a row under the photo of each woman.

'From the residues on their skin and clothing I've managed to come up with something the original team either missed or couldn't analyse. It's a mix of essential oils, aroma compounds, fixatives and solvents – what you blend together to make perfumes. Basically there are a number of synthetic, animal and plant sources which create the particular aroma of each perfume, and depending on the concentration and which specific sources are used, we can determine the exact perfume found on the three women.'

Boyd straightened up, listening intently as the pathologist explained her findings.

'By separating the primary scents, modifiers, blenders and fixatives, I've managed to pinpoint the elements of this fragrance. I ran it through the database and have got match with a particular perfume.'

'So you know exactly what scent they were all wearing?' asked Spence, clearly impressed.

Eve allowed herself a smile of smug self-congratulation.

'Well, I won't go into anymore of the scientific side of things but yes. Our three women were either wearing the scent, had it sprayed onto their bodies after death or, it transferred from the killer's skin onto theirs.'

Spence whistled in admiration.

Boyd however wasn't going to allow anytime for pats on the back, handshakes and congratulations.

'Which perfume is it then?' he demanded, rather harshly.

Grace shot him a look as Eve winced at his tone before answering her boss's question.

'Chanel' she said simply 'Chanel No.5'.

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Commissioner Christie walked briskly down the corridor back towards his office. He'd just sat in on one of the campaign speech sessions for those vying to be the next Minister of Justice. They'd all been impressive, but that David Thompson in particular looked like he stood a better chance than most. True, he'd narrowly missed out on appointment four years ago when he dropped out of the running due to his wife's ill health, but this time he was sure to get the position.

Upon reaching his office, Christie began to flick through the files his secretary had placed neatly on the expansive desk. Frowning slightly as he read the memo attached to one, he dismissed further contemplation of the campaigns and turned to focus upon the budget cuts once more.

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Eve looked round at the team as they stared at her in disbelief.

'Seriously' said Stella 'Chanel No.5 is the thing that links our three bodies?'

'Yep I'm afraid so' replied Eve.

'But that's _the_ most popular perfume in the world; it's been around for more than 50 years!'

'Yes, well that's my findings' shrugged Eve, slightly disappointed that they hadn't reacted more positively to the results of her previous days' labour. 'Of course, the fact that Christie called this 'the No.5 Case' when the original team had no record of the perfume confused me at first, but if you check the files the case in simply number 55555.'

She looked at Boyd and the profiler, hoping for some thanks or glimmer of progress in the case but the boss was staring moodily at the board thingy – clearly in his robot-mode again.

Grace smiled at the worried pathologist. 'Thanks Eve, you're the first to come up with something new, so well done'

Eve smiled her appreciation and turned to go, 'I guess I'll be getting back to my lab then. Call down if you get anymore information.'

When the pathologist had disappeared again, Spence sighed heavily and turned back to Stella.

'I guess we'll just have to carry on with the phonebooks then until we've the details and addresses of some people with background on our three women.'

Stella nodded silently and picked up her pen again.

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Boyd was sat in his office chair, still staring moodily ahead and not saying a word to anyone. He'd left the bullpen as soon as Eve had returned to the lab, the black cloud settling firmly above his head once more.

'Boyd?' Grace Foley closed the door gently behind her and sat down on the sofa across the room from her boss. 'Boyd, are you alright? Only you've not said a word since Eve gave us her results. You're going into robot-mode again.'

Boyd lifted his gaze to the profiler and simply stared at her for a few moments before answering.

'Not really Grace no.'

Grace felt the relief flood through her when he spoke, at least it wasn't going to be one of those days where the only way to get through to him was telepathy or screaming.

'Well, do you want to talk about it' she probed, not wanting to risk worsening his mood.

Boyd just shrugged and resumed his staring into space, before sighing heavily and leaning forward on his desk.

'This case…it's just impossible. We've got nothing to go on, Spence and Stella have been reduced to trawling phone books and knocking on doors, and even Eve can't find anything we can run with.'

He ran his hands over his face before continuing.

'We've got a few weeks Grace, and then we'll be closed down. All the cases we've solved over the years, all the killers we've put behind bars and it all comes down to one dead-end case. Christie's just looking for an excuse to close us down and it's probably all my fault.'

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	6. Chapter 6

It was silent in the bullpen as Spence and Stella sat at their desks patiently reading through the piles and piles of data in the hope of finding something, anything that may be a clue linking the three bodies in the lab to each other and their killer. Eve was still down in said lab running all the tests she could think of and trying not to chain-smoke away the whole day. Grace was sat in her office trying to piece together some sort of profile on their killer, and Boyd… Well he was just being Boyd.

Stella stopped scanning through the list of transactions that made up Hannah Clement's bank statements for the 6 months before her death. She'd highlighted all the direct debits and regular payments to try and build a better picture of the woman who had been murdered in her own house, in her own bed. There was nothing special, just the usual pattern of supermarkets, petrol stations and hairdressers going out and a modest monthly wage coming in. The three women didn't even use the same bank. But nevertheless she thought she'd picked up on something. Trying not to raise her own hopes, Stella reached over for the Rachel Hall's pile and went through all the highlighted transactions on the other woman's bank statements.

'Spence, I think I've finally got something'

Spencer looked up from his own pile of paperwork which was now threatening to spill over onto the floor at any moment. Tidiness had never been one of his strong points.

'Go on'

Stella took a breath and began, 'Well, I've been going through our first two victims' bank statements for the 6 months prior to their deaths and there seems to be a similarity. Both Hannah Clements and Rachel Hall regularly donated money to a charity for the families of soldiers killed in action, via direct debit. And that's not all - they also both donated to the Liberal Democrat political party.'

Spence leant back with his hands behind his head, and treated Stella to a beautific smile.

'Good work DC Goodman, what about victim number 3 though – Sophie Rawlings?'

'I haven't been through her statements yet but fingers-crossed they'll come up with the same.'

'Hopefully' said Spence 'then we can get out of this office and chat up a few officials and their secretaries.'

'What's that saying you English have about men and a one-track mind?' murmured Stella as she picked up her highlighter once more.

'I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about Stella' replied Spencer innocently 'I was merely suggesting we need to escape from this damn office before I go mad and start pulling a Boyd on everyone.'

The French girl laughed,

'Now that's one thing we certainly don't need around here. Even Grace wouldn't be able to cope with two Boyds all day everyday and she's practically Wonderwoman.'

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Grace frowned at the files before her and rested her chin on her hands. There wasn't much for her to profile on the murderer but she'd tried all the same. So far the lack of violence, rather passive means of killing the victim and the way they'd been laid out freshly showered on their beds was about all she'd been given to go on. There were a couple of theories that may be relevant but really she couldn't draw up a proper profile without some more information.

She was just about to go into the bullpen and see what the others had come up with when Spence stuck his head round the door.

'I've got a present for you Dr Foley'

'If it's not wine or a big bag of money then I'm not interested Spence' replied Grace light-heartedly.

'You're hard to please. But, as it happens, you seem to be in luck as I have something even better'

Grace sat up and turned to her colleague with interest this time. She gave him a quizzical look.

'Really - I don't see George Clooney anywhere out there?'

Spence laughed and placed Stella's findings on the profiler's desk

'No you'll just have to make do with me I'm afraid, but Stella has managed to dig out something for you to add to your profile. Not on the killer mind, just the victims.'

Grace smiled back and reached for the new information. She glanced at it briefly, already trying to link facts, theories and supposition.

'Well, our women were certainly feeling philanthropic. I'll see what I can piece together'

'Thanks Grace'

'Oh and Spence'

'Yep'

'Sorry to burst your bubble but I'm afraid you're just a little too young for me.'

The profiler laughed at her colleague's expression of mock-disappointment.

'Well it looks like Boyd is in luck after all'

Grace felt herself blush at Spence's quip, glad his back was now turned and everyone else was too absorbed in their work to notice the colour creeping into her cheeks.

Spence left the profiler's office and went back into the bullpen. Grabbing his jacket as Stella did likewise, he knocked on Boyd's door to tell him about the links between the victims' charity and political party of choice. If the Boss was in a good mood then hopefully they'd be able to get out of CCHQ for a while and go ruffle a few feathers.

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Boyd glanced up from his desk and looked across the corridor to the profiler seated at her desk next-door. It had been a long day and the exhaustion was visible in her posture and she scribbled away at the legal pad in front of her. Boyd smiled slightly to himself. That was just typical Grace, still trying to draw together something for the rest of the team to go on even though Spence and Stella had gone hours ago and Eve had disappeared off to her Body Farm.

He rose out of his chair and walked softly over to her office, leaning against the doorframe as she carried on writing unawares of his presence.

Grace took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. She was starting to feel some of the tension that had now built up as a result of spending the best part of a day reading through the case notes. She fought back a yawn and just sat there with her eyes closed for a precious few moments.

'Oh sorry are we keeping you up Dr Foley?'

Grace jumped and looked up to see Boyd leant nonchalantly against her doorway, clearly amused that she had noticed him before.

'Boyd! You gave me a fright, I thought everyone had gone home by now'

'Oh you know me Grace, always one to burn the night-oil'

Grace smiled at her Boss as he too struggled to hide a yawn.

'Maybe its time we both went to bed'

Boyd's eyebrow quirked up, 'Is that a proposition Dr Foley?'

'Boyd!' Grace felt a blush begin to creep into her cheeks again but managed to keep her voice calm 'whatever you're thinking the answer is no.'

'Indulge me Grace'

The profiler's heart began to beat painfully against her ribs. _What if I did? I mean, what harm could it do that hasn't been done many times before? It was his idea after all and God knows we've been skirting around each other long enough._ She took a breath, forcing herself to regain control of her senses before speaking again.

'I think we're both going to have enough trouble staying awake long enough to drive home, let alone for anything else your dark, dark mind may be conjuring up.'

Boyd laughed and straightened up, eyes twinkling mischievously.

'I didn't say a word Grace. Obviously your deeply repressed subconscious is choosing to twist some hidden meaning out of my innocent suggestion … or some other suitably deep psychological stuff. '

'Goodnight Boyd'

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	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks for all the reviews and comments so far guys – much appreciated. We're roughly in the middle now so the great detection race will soon begin.**

**Disclaimer: nope they're not my characters, but I like to think I know them pretty well.**

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Boyd cursed and slammed his hands against the steering wheel of his silver Audi. He'd been sat in traffic for the last 20 minutes and his last vestiges of patience had run out about 19 minutes ago.

'Aarrgh come on! Just drive for God's sake'

Now drumming his fingers on the steering wheel he tried to remember those lines from 'The Tempest' that were once meant to calm him down. It had never worked, but at least he would be able to tell Grace he'd made some attempt at trying to control his temper this morning.

Trying anything to distract himself from the never-ending queue of sharp suits and shiny company BMWs in front of him, Boyd turned on the car's radio – maybe some classical music would work?

As the gentle notes of Tchaicovksy's 'Sleeping Beauty – Waltz' drifted from the speakers, Boyd closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. He was trying to focus on his breathing rather than the gremlin telling him the best option would be to do a bit of good old shouting and storming around, perhaps slamming the car doors a few times for good measure. His blood pressure was just beginning to drop towards half-way normal levels when an irritating jingle interrupted the music –

'And now a political broadcast from the Liberal Democrats…'

Punching the mute button, Boyd resumed his moody glaring at the car in front.

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Grace entered the offices of CCHQ and cast a quick look round – Boyd wasn't here yet so she may have a chance of a bit of peace and quiet and an opportunity to go over her profile without his constant interruptions.

'Morning Grace' called Spence striding across the bullpen to grab his first coffee of the day.

'Spence, you shouldn't be drinking that stuff all the time' admonished Grace good-naturedly 'at least have a proper breakfast before all that caffeine'

'Its alright Mum I had a bacon sandwich on the way in'

Sighing in exasperation at her colleague's cheeky grin and decidedly unhealthy breakfasting habits, Grace went into her office and flicked the kettle on for a cup of good old fashioned tea.

Hearing the double doors open once more she turned to see whether Boyd was making his grand entrance, but instead saw Stella rushing in and flashed her a quick smile before rooting around for a clean mug.

'Sorry Spence' apologised Stella, throwing down her coat and bag 'the traffic was dreadful – I've been stuck in it for the last half an hour, so Boyd's probably doing the same.'

'Then we'd better prepare ourselves for when he does get here because he certainly won't be a happy bunny'

'Boyd is never a happy bunny' quipped Grace 'more like a grizzly bear with a permanently sore head.'

Spence and Stella laughed at the accuracy of the profiler's description as she disappeared off into her office again, no doubt hoping Boyd would think she was busy enough not to be disturbed for a while.

Grace sat down her desk shrugged out of her coat before opening the files left on her desk from the previous day. She'd tried to piece together some sort of profile from the limited evidence they had so far, but it needed going over before she shared her theories with the rest of the team. Putting on her glasses, she began to read.

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When Peter Boyd finally made his entrance after another twenty minutes stuck in rush hour traffic, he announced his arrival by slamming all the doors within his reach and barking out orders for a team meeting in ten minutes.

Raising her eyebrows at Spence and stifling a smile as the image of a grizzly bear in an Armani suit entered her head; Stella quickly tried to assemble their notes from yesterday. Spence had clearly just had the same image enter his mind as the desk in front of him suddenly became very interesting and required a through examination.

'Grace'

The calm before the inevitable storm had broken and Grace put down her papers and prepared to play the role of lion tamer once more.

Crossing to the DSI's office, she shut the door quietly behind her and settled on the comfy chair before looking up at her boss.

'Yes Boyd?'

She could see the tension in his face and sensed today wouldn't be the calmest of days if he remained in this mood. She smiled as Boyd closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath, clearly trying to gain some hold of himself before speaking.

'Have you got a profile on our mystery killer yet?'

'Sort of'

It wasn't going to be a morning for in-depth conversation or complicated answers, Grace thought it best to keep everything simple and her 'psychobabble' to an absolute minimum.

'Sort of? How can you have a sort of profile Grace? You've either got one or you haven't.'

'Well, Boyd I haven't much evidence to go on yet, and neither have the rest of the team before you start laying into them about shirking off.'

Boyd allowed himself a brief smile as he studied the woman sat before him.

'You know Grace, another few years and I don't think we'll have to talk at all.'

'Another few years working with you Boyd and I don't know if I'll be in a fit state to talk to anyone.'

'Touché'

Pulling himself out of his chair Boyd opened the door and waited for Grace to leave in front of him, ready for the first team meeting of the day.

'Right, someone ring down to Eve and then its Grace's turn to show and tell this morning'

Boyd poured himself a generous cup of coffee and leant against the desk next to Grace in his customary stance, somewhere between a natural assertion of status and rank and a slight air of affected boredom.

'No need, Eve is already here' said the pathologist walking into the bullpen 'ready when you are Grace.'

Grace took her place in front of the board thingee and began to talk through the information she had managed to fit together thus far.

'From the details I've been given about the circumstances in which our three women were killed, I think we can safely say that our killer is also most likely to be a woman'

'So no sexual element then?'

'No Boyd, no sexual element. Not every case needs to have one; I'd have thought you knew that by now'

'Ouch'

'Anyway as I was saying, the rather passive means of killing the women and the great care that seems to have been taken over the laying out of their bodies' Grace shot a quick look at Boyd 'and the lack of sexual activity would strongly point us away from the possibility of having a male killer.'

'Someone they'd trust or befriend and then allow into their house then?' queried Spence 'like a best girlfriend or sister or someone?'

'Well the original investigating team never found a suspect to link all three, but basically yes' continued Grace ' also each time there was evidence of our killer and victims sharing a bottle of pink champagne, and with my educated wisdom and experience I wouldn't call that a particularly male drink.'

'What is the saying you have…' began Stella 'a bitch and stitch? Like that sort of thing?'

The team laughed at her apt choice of expression.

'Pretty much' concluded Grace 'and the almost ritualistic, motherly tucking them up in bed afterwards is also a particularly female trait.'

'Figures' said Eve thoughtfully ' there was no bruising or signs of struggle, and all three bodies were, like you said Grace, freshly showered with brushed hair like a mum would do putting you to bed.'

'So we're looking for a murderous broody old woman who likes to pretend random ladies are her children before killing them?'

'No Boyd!' exclaimed Grace in exasperation 'she doesn't have to be old, or broody, or believe they are her children. She just has to be a woman.'

'Joking Grace joking' Boyd grinned 'I knew that'd get you riled though didn't I?'

'Yes you did Boyd, and if you lot don't mind I need to get back to pinning some theories on this'.

Grace cast Boyd a withering look before returning to her office.

'Spence back me up here we're outnumbered' Boyd pleaded with his DI.

'No way buddy, you're on your own with that one. I have no intention of invoking the ire and wrath of any of our lovely ladies right now.'

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	8. Chapter 8

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'But darling please – you can't go away right now, we're right in the middle of the campaign for Christ's sake!'

The woman spun round, auburn hair radiant in the lamplight.

'I know David don't you think I haven't realised how much all this means to you? But if I mean anything at all to you then you will let me go.'

David Thompson stopped his pacing in front of the fireplace and positively glowered at his wife.

'Why do your nerves have to play up now? You've been perfectly happy and well for the past three years.'

'Do you think I'm doing this on purpose? Is that what you're trying to say?'

'No Charlie, its just not the right time. I need you here with me. I dropped out of the last election to nurse you and now it's my final chance to make something of myself. Please just hold on for another week; you don't have to go to any photo calls or press conferences, just be there for me.'

David pleaded with his wife, the confused mixture of worry and love as clear in his eyes as the exhaustion was clear in his posture. It was nearly the end of the election campaign and he had a real chance of winning this time. He knew his wife suffered from her nerves but he really couldn't miss out again – he'd been there for her and now she needed to be there for him.

'I'm sorry David I…' Charlie faltered, full of guilt at the pain in her husband's eyes 'I really have to go…I just can't take it anymore. A week at the spa and clinic and I'll be right as rain again, that's all it will take.'

David slammed down his wine glass so that the deep burgundy liquid spilled onto the cream carpets. He stormed out of the room and Charlie could hear him pick up his car keys and slam the front door.

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Spence and Stella pulled up in front of the smart white house. Malden Road may not have been the most expensive area of Kentish Town but it was certainly smart enough for the young professionals and new families who chose to make it their home.

'I wouldn't say no' said Stella as she glanced up and down the street.

'Interesting' grinned Spence 'I'll certainly bear that in mind'

'Spence!'

The two colleagues climbed out of their car and up the steps to the front door of what had been Sophie Rawlings' home. They'd been to the old homes of Hannah Clements and Rachel Hall already that morning and this was their last port of call before heading back to CCHQ.

Stella unlocked the front door and pushed into open, forcing the small mountain of junk mail and fast-food flyers out of the way.

'Whoa, no-ones been in here for some time' muttered Spence as he glanced around the narrow hallway. The house showed all the signs of having stood empty for the past three years; cobwebs, dust and what looked suspiciously like mouse droppings were everywhere.

'Why didn't the family sell the house?' asked Stella 'I mean its not as if the cases were widely publicised in the press, or a particularly gory murder happened in the kitchen?'

'I don't know' mused Spence 'we can ask the parents tomorrow, but I guess they just wanted to hang on to what was left until they had closure on the case.'

'That c-word again' smiled Stella as she glanced around the rooms leading off the hallway, 'if Boyd were here he'd throw a tantrum.'

'Well luckily Boyd isn't here, so we can get on with some real detective work without beating up any witnesses or upsetting the family for kicks'.

'Spence! He's not that bad. He just lacks sensitivity and a sense of when to shut up and let Grace do the talking.'

'I've worked with him for eight years now, you wait that long and see how you feel huh Stella?'

'Grace has worked with him longer'

'Yeah well I'm not having sex with Boyd'

'That's not what I meant but… hey you always deny anything is happening between those two'

Spence grimaced. Why didn't he think before talking just this once?

'I never said it was. It was merely an educated guess that has now conjured up a number of highly disturbing images that need to be confined to the deepest, darkest corner of my mind and never let out again'

'Ha, wait till Eve hears about this!'

Spence threw up his hands and rolled his eyes in exasperation.

'God, you girls are all the same! Frankie and Mel were obsessed with deciding just close friends Grace and Boyd were and now I'll never get away from it. Let's just have a look upstairs and do our job.'

Stella grinned to herself and followed Spence up the staircase.

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Back in the lab, Eve was sitting at her laptop staring blankly at the screen. She'd run all the toxicology tests for each of the bodies twice, examined everything she could possibly think of twice, and had now completely run out of ideas. Her one big break had been the identification of the perfume as Chanel No.5 but until there was another body or some new evidence conjured out of thin air, her job was pretty much done.

She sighed and walked over to the extractor fan once more. Maybe another cigarette would clear her mind and provide some inspiration?

Boyd buttoned up the white lab coat and stepped through as the doors swooshed open. He spotted the pathologist straight away, trying to hide the fact that she'd been smoking under the extractor fan again.

'Carry on Eve, you know my views on smoking but I guess that's your lookout'

The pathologist smiled.

'Thanks Boyd. You know, you should try it – it might clam your temper a little.'

'No chance, and Grace would kill me'

'Since when have you always done what Grace tells you?'

'Trust me its easier that way' Boyd glanced around the spotless lab 'Anything else on the case then?'

'Nope, I'm completely out of ideas and unless we get some more evidence brought up then there's no more I can do quite frankly'

'What about the shampoo and all of that?'

'I ran the tests but there was no brand in common, just your usual mid-range products much the same as you'd find in thousands of bathrooms all over the city.'

'Oh' Boyd was silent for a moment 'I guess you might as well go to that body place you love so much. We'll call if anything comes up'

Eve hurriedly stubbed out the cigarette. This was too good an opportunity to miss.

'Thanks Boyd'

She all but ran from the lab, grabbing her coat as she went. Boyd smiled to himself as he shrugged out of his lab coat – that woman was weird but in a kooky kind of way. Dead bodies were clearly her thing.

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	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for the delay but the next section has now been typed up. I'm not quite sure how many more chapters there will be, but a few anyway.**

**There is one example of bad language but we're all mature enough (I think) to deal with it.**

**Disclaimer - waking the dead and the characters aren't mine, but the story certainly is.**

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Charlotte Thompson looked up from the suitcase she was carefully filling with clothes and sighed wearily when she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. She sat down in front of the dressing-table and studied her face critically. Those fine lines definitely weren't there before the start of this election campaign, and she was certainly starting to develop crow's feet around the corners of her eyes.

_This certainly won't do._ She scolded herself for allowing her husband's political ambitions come before her own. They may not be on quite the same intellectual level but her 'activities' were just as important as his – maybe more so. Her glowing auburn hair, bright green eyes and flawless complexion were her bread-and-butter, without her looks she would be nothing. Absentmindedly she spritzed on some more perfume from the stylish rectangular bottle by her arm. With a new resolve joining the steely determination already formed in her mind, Charlotte stood and resumed her packing. She had said she needed to go away, and go away she would.

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Boyd lay back in his chair with his feet on the desk and arms behind his head. He was just about comfortable enough to contemplate a quick nap while the team were busy and Grace wasn't looking. He had just closed his eyes when the phone rang. Its shrill tone jolted him wide awake and he struggled to keep himself from falling from the chair. Whoever this was, they had better have a good reason for calling him.

'Boyd'

'Detective Superintendent Boyd, this is Commissioner Christie speaking.'

Boyd's heart sank as the crisp tones of his superior carried down the phone.

'Sir'

'I assume your team is making swift progress on our new case'

'As much progress as we can considering the very limited evidence provided'

'Well the deadline still stands at one month; I hope you can close the case by then'

'So do I sir'

'And Boyd'

Boyd slumped onto the desk, was he going to get a personal bollocking now as well?

'Sir'

'I've had my hands tied over this decision, if I could have it any other way then you know I wouldn't touch your unit. The budget has been cut and CCHQ was already earmarked for the chop by other powers who be, I could only rubber-stamp their decision.'

Boyd replaced the phone into its base and groaned as he remained slumped over the desk. If Christie had tried, and failed, to exert his powers as Commissioner for the Met then things were even more serious than he had first thought. He knew he'd made many enemies over the years and an even larger number within the Met didn't like him, but to just liquidate a whole unit with one month's notice was unheard of.

There was a gentle knock at the door, and he knew it was Grace without looking up. She would just come in anyway whether he acknowledged her or not.

'Good news I take it?'

The profiler crossed the room at sat across the desk from Boyd, the concern in her blue eyes undermining the sarcasm in her words.

'Oh the very best Grace the very best'

Boyd propped himself up on his elbows and tried to read the face of the woman opposite him. He knew he was bad at understanding women, but with Grace it was different, often they didn't have to speak to know what the other was thinking.

'Are you going to tell me what Christie said?'

Boyd smiled,

'What makes you so sure it was Christie?'

'Well judging by your reaction my money would be on your mother, your ex-wife or Christie. And seeing as you haven't yet broken anything I would assume it was the latter.'

'He was checking up on his humble minions, and reminding me about the deadline, as if I could possibly forget'

'And I hope you didn't barge in with your usual tact and antagonise him further…'

'Grace, Grace, Grace ye of little faith. As if I would ever dream of questioning my superiors'

Grace laughed at the expression of pure little-boy-lost innocence on her colleague's face and put her head in her hands.

'I'll believe that when I see it. I've known you for a long time Boyd and I've yet to see any proof of you following instructions and not going off on your own little hunch just to annoy whoever else thinks they are in charge.'

'It comes with the badge Grace, like your ability to read people's minds and tell them what they were really thinking just comes with the piece of paper.'

'Thanks'

'Pleasure'

Grace stood up from her chair but hesitated before leaving the office.

'Don't blame all this on yourself Boyd. Its no-one's fault if they want to cut back on spending, and we've been regularly reminded of our expendable nature over the years.'

'You're doing it again, stop reading my mind'

'Sorry but you're just so predictable and I'm just so amazingly clever that I can't help myself'

Boyd laughed but his smile didn't reach his eyes, they both knew their situation was helpless. The team had been through a lot together and new members had come and gone but Boyd was always the same – holding himself responsible for everything and refusing to compromise.

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Down in the lab Spence, Stella and Eve were all stood around the examination table in their shiny white coats. Eve had listened to all their information about the houses they'd visited the previous day and now the three of them were trying to find a further line of enquiry to pursue.

'I just wish we'd found something amazing that could link all three victims with a killer who we can then burst in on, arrest and lock up' complained Stella 'what will we all do if they close the unit? Not being reassigned is like a death sentence.'

'I'm just going to carry on with my work from before' said Eve 'there are always plenty of mass graves popping up and the Body Farm is a full time commitment. Its you guys I feel sorry for. I'd offer you a job with the Farm but you're hardly likely to accept.'

Spence shuddered at the thought of spending his working day in that place. The smell alone was enough to give him the creeps.

'I could go back to France I suppose' mused Stella 'but I like London and have never considered anything other than police work.'

'What about you Spence?'

The pathologist turned to her colleague, she knew he'd been with the unit since it began and lost friends in the line of duty as well as nearly being killed himself.

'Probably just take early retirement, maybe find a girl and settle down – I don't know'

'Aww Spence the family man, that's something I'd love to see'

The three colleagues fell silent as they each pondered their futures. Grace would always be welcomed back to any of her previous positions with open arms and she had her books, but Boyd… well it was impossible to imagine him doing anything else.

'Hang on' began Spencer 'your big discovery with the Chanel No.5 Eve. Hannah Clements' house was left exactly as it was found and I don't remember seeing any in the bedroom or the bathroom cabinet. That means we can now definitely say it came from the killer'

'If the other houses had been left then we could check around but Rachel's has been rented out to a new couple and Laura's is just standing empty.'

'Yeah but we could ask family, friends, ex-partners and see if they knew of their using the perfume? Or even if a close friend wore it?'

'Tenuous… but its all we've got so might as well. It'll be another chance to get out of the office again'

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	10. Chapter 10

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'Thank you madam' chirped the receptionist 'the porter will just show you to your suite. If you have any troubles then don't hesitate to ring down to the front desk.'

She watched as the stunning woman meekly accepted the key and then followed the porter away down the hallway. She certainly looked like she needed a weekend of relaxation and pampering; her smile hadn't reached those unusual green eyes and her posture was slumped and weary. They had so many women like her checking in all the time, business women exhausted after a long week of board meetings or suburban housewives needing a break from their homes and families.

She smiled to herself as she thought how lucky she was not to have such a stressful life as they did, and anyway she had a 30% staff discount to use whenever the urge for a massage or facial arose.

Once her suitcase was on the floor and the door closed on the world, Charlotte Thompson sat down on the luxurious bed and kicked off her stilettos. She hated the way they pinched her toes but they made her look the part of ever-fabulous trophy wife straight away. Turning off her mobile phone and disconnecting the landline, she lay back on the copious amounts of pillows and closed her eyes.

_Now I have the whole weekend to myself_ she thought _maybe I'll meet some new friends like the last times? Those women had been so friendly and eager to chat all the time; it had been all too easy to gain their trust and friendship._

Charlotte smiled to herself as she pondered her acting skills, the way she could so effortlessly pretend to be all these other Charlottes when her real self was as far away from this image as it could possibly be. She felt her mind start to wander and allowed herself to drift into a blissful reverie, glad to be free of David and his political talk.

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Stella walked back to the car and climbed into the passenger seat. Spence looked up expectantly.

'Nope there's definitely no-one in and the neighbour seems to think they've gone on holiday for the next fortnight'.

Spence groaned 'Just what we need, I thought we were finally getting somewhere'.

'But…' continued Stella 'I did ask if they knew Sophie well, _and_ they mentioned that she was always happy to chat but was away quite a lot with her job – reviewing health and spa treatments for women's magazines.'

'Interesting'

Spence turned the ignition and nudged the dark car into the steady flow of traffic streaming down Malden Road.

'Back to HQ then, or do you think we'll get away with a quick pub lunch first?'

Spence laughed at the childlike hope in the voice of his colleague.

'We'd better get back or else Boyd will do his usual ranting act, Grace will give us that look and Eve…well she'll just never forgive us for leaving her out of our escapades.'

'Back to work it is then' Stella sighed over dramatically 'but at least stop at the sandwich place round the corner or else I'll be starved by the time we get there.'

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A couple of hours, bacon sandwiches and extra-strong coffees later and the team were all assembled in the bullpen. Boyd and Grace were leaning against a desk towards the back of the room and Eve had just appeared from her laboratory. Stella had grabbed the board marker first so Spence sat back in his chair, ready to let her do all the talking.

'Spence and I went to visit the families of Sophie Rawlings, Hannah Clements and Rachel Hall today and think we've come up with something new.'

'Finally' muttered Boyd, but Grace's glare stopped him from continuing further.

'Hannah and Rachel's families were there to talk to but Sophie's wasn't so we may need to go back when they've returned from their holidays just to make sure the neighbour's information is right'

'Its alright for some' murmured Eve 'I can't remember the last time I had a holiday'

The rest of the team nodded in agreement and began reminiscing about past holidays and just how long it had been since the last time.

'Sorry Stella, I cut you off again' added Eve hastily as the DC's face fell at the team's lack of interest in what she had to say.

'Well, both Hannah and Rachel were regular visitors to spa retreats, health farms and those sorts of places, and both favoured a certain place in Hertfordshire – a Champneys luxury spa.'

Boyd frowned 'I thought you'd been through their bank statements and couldn't find any matches apart from the political donations?'

'We had' replied Spence eager to defend their week's work 'they'd both had gift vouchers as Christmas and birthday presents so there wouldn't be any record except at the spa and on the bank statement of whoever bought the vouchers.'

'What about the third girl – Sophie Rawlings?' said Grace

'That's why we need to check with her parents' replied Stella 'the neighbours seemed to think she was a frequent visitor but they couldn't be sure where to. But, if Champneys was her haunt then I think we could get something out of this – the killer could have befriended them or worked there.'

Eve joined in the rising noise in the bullpen'

'The hair products used could have come from a spa but they weren't the same brand. We could check the favoured brands for that particular spa and maybe see if they have receipts for purchases going back to the times our ladies were staying there' Eve paused before delivering her final piece de resistance 'also there would have been plenty of Diazepam floating around the place for almost anyone to get a hold of.'

'Hey hey we're onto something now!'

Spence grinned as he leant back in his chair, a look of smug satisfaction plastered across his face. He leant across and high-fived Stella who looked fit to burst now that she'd delivered the goods.

'This would also fit very nicely with the psychological profile I'm starting to build up' remarked Grace 'the victims needed a break, the killer had any number of easy targets and the next step would be to forge something resembling a friendship and let it all go from there. Once you've established some common ground and a certain element of trust its amazing how people can let perfect strangers into their lives.'

Boyd was frowning intently at the board thingee, obviously trying to puzzle something out and oblivious to the stares of his assembled team.

'Boyd?' called Grace gently 'Are you not going to congratulate the team and tell them to get started on the next step of this investigation?'

'What? Oh yeah well done' Boyd nodded at Spence and Stella 'start checking out the Champneys' records and see if anyone crops up. It's been too long since I've got to interrogate someone.'

Spence laughed 'I think we use the term question rather than interrogate now Boss'

'Same thing, its all semantics anyhow' Boyd caught the incredulous look of the profiler standing beside him 'Grace you know what I mean, please don't lecture me on the significance of word choice now!'

Grace raised one eyebrow and smirked playfully at her boss,

'I could draw some pretty interesting conclusions from a number of things you say Boyd, I'm sure I'd be traumatised by now if I tried to delve any deeper into the machinations of your mind'

Boyd threw up his arms in mock-exasperation and strode into his office, but not without muttering a few choice words about women, saying what you mean and impossible.

The team laughed at Grace's glib remark, glad for a moment of light-hearted humour before the daily grind began anew.

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	11. Chapter 11

**Hey guys, hope you all had a great Christmas and weren't snowed in for too long.**

**I know I said this would be done last week but presents and chocolate proved a distraction. Anyway, here is the next chapter and I'll start typing up the penultimate part right now. **

**Disclaimer: WTD and the characters are sadly not mine, but the story has appeared from somewhere in my confused mind. Although I have unashamedly stolen one line which was originally said by the irreplaceable Mel.**

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Peter Boyd was sat in a bucket chair in an ornamented and lavishly decorated waiting room cum lobby deep within the offices of Whitehall. He hated these places and his discomfort was quickly giving way to irritation and impatience; he drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, tapped his heels on the polished wooden floor and generally fidgeted like a small child wanting to be anyway but there. It wasn't that he felt inferior to these suited powers-who-be, quite the opposite in fact, but he just didn't feel comfortable surrounded by so much politics and beaurocracy. Give him the CCHQ offices, a team who enjoyed working together any day, and Grace as his voice of wisdom general right-hand man to make sure he didn't put his foot in it in just these situations too often any day. What did he want to meet with a potential new Minister for Justice for anyway? Whoever got the job would generally do all they could to make life for him and his team hell no matter what – this was just adding insult to injury.

'Detective Superintendent Boyd?' the secretary looked up from her computer screen 'Mr Thompson can see you now'

She watched as the tall, strangely alluring policeman entered the office to her left. That age-old adage about men in uniform could certainly be applied to this policeman in particular; she chastised herself for allowing his cheeky smile and powerful frame to distract her, he probably had any number of Met officers after his heart (well, that and other things) already.

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Boyd studied the face of the younger man seated the other side of polished mahogany desk. He certainly cared about what he was talking about, that much was clear, but despite his animation and the twinkle in his eyes he looked a little drawn. Boyd had heard the rumours about the enigmatic Charlotte Thompson and her frequent trips away but preferred to draw his own conclusions rather than rely on the office grapevine.

'… and so we do recognise and indeed appreciate the valuable role of the Cold Case team and their contribution to the Metropolitan Police Force. I am aware the current Minister has cut back resources and finances considerably for your unit in particular but under my tenure that would not be the case…

Boyd felt his mind drift once again. All this political meet-and-greet, shaking hands and making hollow promises bored him immensely. His thoughts had just settled on trying to decide where he would take Grace for dinner when something the other man said jolted him back to the here and now.

'Sorry, what was that last bit there?'

He plastered a look he hoped conveyed interest and attentiveness to his face as the cogs in his mind fell into overdrive trying to put two and two together.

'Oh, just that my wife has been most valuable in securing supporters and donors to our political cause, although her ill-health has forced her to retire from proceedings once again. You know how women can be; the workload and pressures of living in the public-eye soon take their toll. That Champneys place she keeps disappearing off to will soon have me out of house and home if she spends anymore time there.'

Boyd made a sympathetic gesture, still frantically trying to piece together the puzzle now forming in his mind.

Thompson continued 'but where would we men be without our wives, Charlotte boosted our North London support considerably and a pretty face is always going to win over the male constituents at any rate. So long as I keep her well supplied with clothes, perfume and spa breaks she's more than happy. Though that Chanel perfume she drowns everything in certainly costs an arm and a leg – I probably spend your team's yearly budget on keeping the missus happy'.

He stood up and proffered his hand, prompting Boyd to do the same.

'Nice meeting you DSI Boyd, maybe we'll meet again when I'm Minister'

_Not if I have anything to do with it you smarmy creep _thought Boyd, but he kept up the sycophantic façade until he'd left the room. Grace would have been proud!

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Back in the bullpen of CCHQ, Spence and Stella were still trawling through Champneys' records in the hope that something may link their three victims together. Of course the manager hadn't been to keen on handing over any information at all, but a few thinly-veiled threats about media attention, bad press and health and safety regulations soon made him change his mind. So far Spence had uncovered the dates that both Hannah Clements and Rachel Hall had stayed, but Sophie Rawlings was still eluding him - something that would have dented his ego severely had it been in any other context.

'How you doing Stella?' he called across to his colleague who was crouched on the floor of the bullpen, surrounded by paper.

'Starting to think whoever decided on keeping paper records for gift vouchers should be made to pay for it very dearly'

Spence laughed at Stella's knack of managing to describe the situation perfectly in as few words as possible.

'But' she continued 'Sophie Rawlings didn't pay with a voucher, I've also checked her bank statement again and it seems to have been for work as the magazine publishers reimbursed the full cost'

'Wonder if we could get away with that?' mused Spence 'make a quick dash to the Caribbean and then claim it back as case-related or essential to prevent a nervous breakdown? Boyd would never see me except once in a blue moon, I'd always be on leave or globetrotting at the Met's expense.'

'Same here' said Stella glumly 'although my superb police observational skills and feminine intuition seem to suggest that he'd soon be whisking Grace away on some exotic holiday and we'd be left to do the donkeywork like usual.'

'Stella!' groaned Spence 'can't you just drop the whole Boyd/Grace thing for one day? It's like thinking about your parents, and now I can guarantee I'm going to be plagued with any number of disturbing mental images because of you once again.'

Stella rolled her eyes in a manner Mel would have been proud of and began to protest, knowing how uncomfortable it made Spence feel.

'You know you can't deny it Spence. None of us have any idea what happens when the blinds are closed or when they have to go off driving and questioning people for the day…' She trailed off, smiling as she saw the grimace cross her colleague's face, it was getting easier by the day to wind him up and Eve has also got it down to a fine art.

'Gift vouchers Stella' he cried out pleadingly 'just find out who bought them, I'll trace Sophie Rawlings, and please just leave my poor abused mind alone.

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Peter Boyd pulled into the car park of the Met offices and turned off the ignition of his silver Audi. His mind had been in overload since he'd endured that painfully boring meeting with David Thompson but he was pretty sure he had something. Boyd strode into the building, flashed his pass at the desk sergeant and continued on to CCHQ – anyone walking in the opposite direction soon moved out of his way, they knew a man on a mission when they saw one.

Throwing open the double doors, he walked straight into Grace's office – he needed to run his hunch by her first just to make sure he wasn't finally succumbing to the pressures of the job and turning paranoid.

'Grace I think I've got something'

'You've always had a little something Boyd'

Boyd stopped dead in his tracks for a moment and Grace could have sworn a slight blush began to appear on his cheeks.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times before she decided to rescue him.

'You were about to tell me something you've put together' she prompted sweetly, but inside she was still punching the air at the response on Boyd's face.

'Yes, well, um, thanks Grace'

Grace just smiled in return so he forced his mind to return back to its previous track before the team working in the bullpen saw something that would almost certainly scar them for life.

'I had that pathetic meet-and-greet with the possible new Minister and something he said just started me thinking. Complete kissarse that man though Grace, has a face you just want to punch…'

'Boyd, as valuable as your character analyses are you're going off on one again.'

'Well he is! But, he is from the Liberal Democrat Party and a supporter of that military charity all our victims donated to.'

Grace began to protest about tenuous links and trying to find an excuse to make someone he didn't like uncomfortable.

'Please Grace let me continue, I have thought about this. He starting babbling about his wife and how wonderful she was etc and then mentioned how she was always disappearing off the Champneys for her 'ill-health', she canvassed support in North London in particular, persuade lots of young women to donate, _and_ Grace _and_ she wears Chanel No.5'

Boyd slumped into the chair opposite his profiler and waited for her verdict. Grace sighed and began to speak.

'Everything you've said is certainly convenient for our killer and it does fit my profile, but I daresay many other people do as well.'

'I know Grace, but aren't you always saying how everyone can find a killer inside of them in the right situation? That would make all of our hunches pure supposition.'

'True, but Boyd I don't want you rushing into things just because you've taken a dislike to the man. No don't try and deny it and I've known you long enough and well enough to learn your hunches are usually correct… we just can't afford to do anything wrong right now can we?'

Boyd grunted in response and Grace couldn't help but laugh at the expression of petulance on his face. Boyd looked up and couldn't stop a smile slowly spreading across his face too.

'What?'

'Nothing. Its just…you're like this every case we work on and when you sulk like that all it does is remind me of my kids trying to get their own way when they were about five years old'

'Ouch Grace, so I'm like a five year old now?'

Grace sighed and leant forwards towards her boss, it wouldn't hurt to be honest.

'Most of the time - yes. But the rest of the time you're a man on a mission. You just can't bear to let anyone get away with their actions, and that's an admirable quality Peter.'

Boyd held her gaze for a long moment. He fought against the overwhelming urge to kiss her there and then and instead reached across and squeezed her hand.

'Thanks Grace' he gave her a cheeky smile and shrugged his shoulders before becoming serious once more – no mean feat as his attention was almost entirely focused on the softness of her hand beneath his own. 'You're right though, I do want to knock him off his pedestal, but I honestly think there is something there and we just need to do a bit of digging.'

Grace didn't break eye contact, but gestured with her free hand towards the bullpen where Stella and Eve were making a truly disgraceful job at hiding the fact that they were staring at the scene unfolding in the adjacent office.

'I guess we'd better tell the team then.'

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	12. Chapter 12

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The Cold Case Team was assembled in the bullpen once more, although the atmosphere had certainly changed. Boyd was pacing up and down, barking out the links he had made between Charlotte Thompson and their victims earlier that day, and determined to pursue his hunch no matter what. Spence was trying to write everything up on the board thingee and make some sense of it all without getting in the way of his Boss. Eve and Stella were decidedly giggly, much to the mystification of everyone else, and kept casting furtive glances and Boyd and Grace whilst trying not to make eye contact with each other or else another burst of the giggles would begin. Grace was… well Grace was her usual calm and collected self, trying to keep the team under control and placate Boyd when he became frustrated (although Stella and Eve would now argue this was in more ways than one).

The noise level in the offices was increasing along with Boyd's temper and one thing had to relent.

'Guys will you just shut up and listen to what I am saying for once' the lion roared once more, and it certainly did the trick as there was a deathly silence.

'Good' continued Boyd in his normal tones 'this may well be our last case and I for one certainly don't want to make a cock-up of it'

'Neither do we sir' interjected Stella 'but everything has happened so quickly we're still trying to piece it together with the evidence we already have. I'm not even sure I know who this Charlotte lady is.'

'Well if Eve and yourself stopped giggling like a couple of schoolgirls and used your training it would be hell of a lot easier.'

Stella and Eve both fell silent and cast guilty glances at each other – profoundly irritated that their supposedly subtle glances had been clocked by Boyd, and so most certainly seen by Grace. Luckily the French-girl didn't try to retaliate or else that would certainly have been one spectacular showdown – sometimes it was hard to decide whether it was her or the Boss who was most stubborn.

'Spence, I take it you at least have managed to take in these recent developments? When its all on the board and you've chased up all the records, I think its time for a little road-trip'

Spence grinned excitedly, this was more like it! Stella and Eve both looked up hopefully, undercover surveillance was the highlight of any case and they certainly didn't want to miss out on a free spa trip.

The DSI left the bullpen and stormed back into his office, leaving Spence to explain exactly what was now happening to a rather more subdued Stella and Eve. Grace also stood to leave the room, but not before casting a look at the girls which told them she knew precisely what their 'secret' was. Once the profiler was safely ensconced in Boyd's office, Eve left out the breath she hadn't realised she was holding.

'Does anyone else feel that Grace always knows everything?'

'Yep' replied Spence 'and judging by your two's reactions I really don't want to know what it was.'

Stella and Eve only had to look in the other's direction before dissolving into another fit of giggles.

'This is going to be a long afternoon' moaned Spence, into his hands.

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Charlotte Thompson lay by the pool and allowed herself to relax and simply absorb her luxurious surroundings. From her lounger she had an expansive view of this particular infinity pool and its surrounding area where ladies such as herself could lay and be pampered. She had already had a full Swedish body massage that morning and the tension in her upper back really had dissolved beneath the masseuse's hands, now all she wanted to do was lay there and daydream. She hadn't yet made up her mind whether or not she would make a new 'friend' this trip or whether it would really just be for relaxation and pampering. It had been so long since the last time that she really didn't know whether she could be bothered with it all anymore. David was still his usual career-focussed self, they were growing steadily richer and more popular, and there were plenty of absentminded trophy wives to fawn over her at all the parties and dinners they attended. She had always grown tired of her playthings and people were no different. Maybe she would just devote herself to looking even more beautiful and give other women even more reason to be jealous of her and just how simply wonderful she was.

'Your drink madam'

The uniformed attendant passed her a Grey Goose vodka martini in its distinctive glass, and disappeared behind-the-scenes of her opulent surroundings once more. Charlotte slipped a pill into the drink and stirred it lazily with one red painted fingernail. If she was going to really relax and be herself then a little drink or two would fit the bill perfectly.

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Boyd lay back in his chair with his feet propped on the desk. He was deep in thought and barely acknowledged what the profiler was saying just feet away.

'Boyd?' the profiler's tone was gentle, she knew how he tried to puzzle everything out in his own mind before sharing with everyone else 'Boyd you're not even listening to me!'

He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and tried to focus on the woman sitting before him. He knew they were very near to solving this case and that he needed a single-minded focus if it was all to go to plan… but his mind really was elsewhere.

'Sorry Grace, I was miles away'

'I know Boyd you had that vacant look again, although I can't be one hundred percent sure that it isn't your normal expression'

He laughed at the easy banter between them, it was so easy to just talk to Grace, listen to Grace, be with Grace… _Peter you're doing it again!_ He scolded himself mentally. _You're fifty six for God's sake not some horny teenager. You've got a job to do so stop thinking about her and get on with it._

He cleared his throat and removed his feet from the desk so that he at least looked to be more attentive even if his mind persisted on concentrating on other things.

'Thanks Grace, just what I need to boost my morale when everything could crumble to rat shit at any moment.'

'Boyd you know I don't mean it. And anyway what have you suddenly become so infatuated with that even your new breakthrough can't overshadow?'

Grace looked at him, and he knew she could probably see straight through him to read his thoughts and emotions currently in such turmoil.

'I'll tell you once we've cracked this case, and we can finally get around to having the dinner I keep promising you'

'That's more like it' Grace smiled 'but don't forget you owe me two bottles of wine for being such an arse last week'

Boyd winced at that particular memory, one he wasn't proud of at all.

'Maybe I'll buy you three if you behave yourself Dr. Foley'

That familiar glint had returned to his eyes once more and he was about to continue when the door to his office burst open.

'Sorry to barge in' apologised Spence, not quite sure what he had interrupted 'but the dates when Charlotte Thompson was at the spa match the times all three victims were there, _and _she is also prescribed Diazepam by her GP.'

Boyd got to his feet, looking like the cat that not only got the cream but the entire dairy.

'Spence – secure me a warrant for the Thompson house, take Stella to pay a visit to Mrs Thompson at that Champneys place, and Grace - get your coat.'

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Boyd and Grace drove through the streets of South London, making their way to the river and then north to Kensington. Boyd had gritted his teeth when he found out the home address of the Thompsons – he never went north of the river unless he really had to, he was a south Londoner through and through.

They crossed Tower Bridge and Grace cast a glance at the man sitting beside her.

'You ok Boyd? No sudden fever, strange symptoms, or unexplainable twitches?'

'Not yet. But we stay here for any longer than strictly necessary and I might develop them all'

Grace laughed at his mock seriousness, wondering where exactly his dislike had stemmed from.

'You can live north of the river Boyd, it's exactly the same as everywhere else, probably nicer if I do say so myself'

'Don't turn this into a my part of London is nicer than your part argument Grace, you know I'd win hands down every time.'

'I wouldn't be too sure Boyd, your flat is a bit poky and there is certainly more traffic noise in the mornings'

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat from the back seat and Eve's husky voice piped up.

'Guys I am still in this car you know. If you want to carry this discussion further then I'm all too pleased to get out and walk to the Thompson house rather than dwell on how Grace seems to know what the morning traffic sounds like from your bedroom Boyd.'

Grace blushed and turned to look out of the window – she had forgotten the pathologist's presence, now she and Stella certainly would have something to giggle about.

Boyd just laughed as he saw the profiler's expression and glanced at the Eve in the rear-view mirror.

'Who mentioned anything about bedrooms? That was all your own imagination.'

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	13. Chapter 13

**I know I said this would be the final chapter, but there were too many things to fit into just one more and have a decent ending. So this is now the penultimate chapter, and I will try and get the very last section section posted up within the next few days. Without wanting to give anything away, the Stella/Charlotte Thompson scenes may seem a little unbelievable, but I have based the content of their conversation on a case which my uncle oversaw a few years ago.**

**Disclaimer: WTD and the team are owned by the BBC, but the story is mine.**

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'Just look at this place!' Spence whistled in admiration as he and Stella pulled up at the front entrance to the grand manor house. They'd expected a top-of-the-market specification but this really was something else.

'If I could stay here I'd consider myself in heaven' murmured Stella 'just imagine someone must have lived here as their family home once upon a time.'

They sat in the car for a moment as they absorbed their luxurious surroundings, each secretly thinking how they could get away for a few days of pampering and being waited on hand and foot.

'Seems a shame for us to barge in and ruin the party but so is life' said Spence cheerily 'it certainly beats the scumholes we normally end up in.'

They were both laughing as they climbed out of the car and walked across the raked gravel to the front entrance. A quick flash of their warrant cards to the uniformed doormen and they were in.

After explaining exactly what they were there for numerous times to the manager, Stella was wired up and ready to go with Spence tracking her every move over an earpiece and computer screen.

Suitably attired in the obligatory Champneys' fluffy white bathrobe and slippers, she walked softly down the marble hallways taking note of the spa's layout and different areas. Her role for now was to behave just like all the other guests whilst Spence tried to pinpoint exactly where Charlotte Thompson was lounging, still blissfully unaware of the connections the team had made let alone their presence.

She entered the nearest pool area and settled herself on a lounger, surreptitiously observing everyone in the room whilst she waited for Spence's instructions. _I wouldn't mind if it took him a little while to trace Charlotte Thompson,_ she thought happily, _in fact I'm quite happy to wait all afternoon._

Spence, meanwhile, was using all the spa's security cameras to check out the various communal areas for any sighting of their suspect. He knew full well that if she wasn't in any of them and had chosen to stay in her room, then their little outing was going to get a lot harder. They couldn't barge in without a warrant, but he didn't fancy having to crawl back to Boyd empty-handed either. He was scanning the terrace's infinity pool when he spotted her; wearing the same robe as all the others, but her stunning good looks, enviable figure and thick auburn hair meant she immediately stood out from the crowd.

'Stella, I've found her' he spoke into the microphone positioned by the screen 'she's in the far right corner of the terrace, next to the big swimming pool with the funny edges.'

The other side of the building, Stella smiled as the voice of her colleague sounded through her ear-piece.

'It's an infinity pool Spence' she murmured exasperatedly 'they're the height of spa luxury.'

'Whatever Miss Expert just go and observe, maybe try and strike up a bit of conversation – that's if you're allowed to talk to each other around here, it's starting to remind me of the Lab.'

'Maybe Eve would like it? I'm moving over there now'

Stella reluctantly moved from her rather comfortable position and made her way through the softly lit manor house to yet another luxurious pool area. If she ever got any time off then this would definitely be the first place she would come to.

Luckily, the lounger nearest to Charlotte Thompson was free, and the other guests were either swimming graceful lengths of the pool or talking softly on the other end of the terrace.

After lying back for a few blissful moments, Spence's impatient cough in her earpiece reminded Stella that she was her here for reason very different to the relaxation of the other guests. She surveyed the terrace under the pretence of marvelling in her opulent surroundings and smiled politely as the other lady looked up. Stella received a genuine smile in return – maybe the whole casual conversation thing wouldn't be so tricky after all?

She took a deep breath and started to speak in the hushed and gentle tones that seemed appropriate for such a place.

'This is such a lovely pool I think I could stay here all day; I'm amazed I haven't thought to come here before'

The words sounded pathetic as she spoke them, but Stella simply didn't know what else to say. Fortunately. Charlotte was in a conversational mood and she replied earnestly,

'Oh it is definitely one of the best I've ever been to. I used to come here regularly about four or five years ago but life has been rather hectic and I've only now found time to revisit the place again.'

In the considerably less luxuriant office, Spence leant forward with his elbows on the desk. If Stella was careful and kept her talking then they could certainly move a few steps closer to wrapping up this case.

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DSI Boyd rapped impatiently on the front door of the impeccable Kensington house belonging to Mr and Mrs David Thompson. After waiting barely ten seconds he started again, although this time he was banging on the dark painted wood rather than knocking.

'Boyd' whispered Grace 'don't be so impatient. We don't need the attention of all the neighbours before we've even gone inside.'

Boyd turned to his profiler and forensic pathologist, cheerfully clutching the search warrant in his hand.

'Doesn't matter, I know he's not in and the neighbours can stare all they like. We've got a warrant Grace, there's no need to whisper.'

The profiler turned her back as he took out his tools and quickly worked the lock. The front door swung gently open and he stepped to one side.

'Ladies first'

'Nice to know you _can_ be a gentleman Boyd' remarked Eve as she walked into the hallway. Grace suppressed a grin as she followed her into the house and closed the door behind them all.

Eve pulled on her rubber gloves and started rummaging in her case to find all the weird and wonderful tools to her trade.

'Right, I'll start in the bathrooms and kitchen if you two will have a look round down here. Just shout if you need me, and Boyd' she continued warily 'try not to break anything important.'

'Yes sir' fired back Boyd as he clicked his heels and marched into the living room military-style.

'Don't worry Eve, I'll keep an extra close eye on him' said Grace reassuringly as the pathologist rolled her eyes and made her way into the gleaming modern kitchen.

Grace looked at the coffee-table books and various ornaments that were elegantly placed around the spacious living room. Other than the people smiling up out of the few photographs, this house was barely any different from hundreds of other similarly expensive properties across the city. It certainly wasn't a family home though, that much was clear from the cream painted walls, neutral tones and expensive furniture the Thompson's had chosen. The dining room was the same. If anything it was just too perfect.

Boyd was flicking through a pile of bank statements he'd found in a bureau drawer and failing to disguise his dislike of the men who earned such money from closing police units and cutting back their resources to breaking point. He turned to study his colleague who was still absorbed in her scrutiny of the room.

'Got anything Grace?'

'Nothing groundbreaking' Grace answered honestly 'but it's hardly the most homely and welcoming of places I've ever been to'

'Just because it's not full of books and photos and... stuff' Boyd answered cheekily 'some of us like to be able to see the shelves and coffee table once in a while.'

'I'm sure I don't know what you're insinuating about my lovely home Boyd, but this place could be a set for a magazine spread. There's nothing really that's personal, nothing that points towards any interests or hobbies – it's as though they don't even live here.'

'You never know upstairs may come complete with bloodstains, mementoes of past victims and even a few body parts thrown in for good measure. Perhaps a few weird ritual things and stalker dairies for you to theorise about.'

Grace laughed 'I wish Boyd, I wish. Now, shall we go to the bedroom?'

'I though you'd never ask!'

These last few words of conversation drifted down the hallway as Eve emerged from the kitchen. She couldn't help but smile as she quickly retraced her steps and dug out her mobile to text Stella.

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Still holed up in a back-office of the Champneys' management quarter, Spence was staring at the computer screen in front of him in disbelief. When Stella and Charlotte Thompson had started talking it had been all the usual 'girly stuff', but now… he'd had to check his earpiece was actually working.

Still listening intently to the conversation unrolling between the two women, and reassuring Stella that he was indeed taking all this in, he reached for his mobile and hit Boyd's speed dial.

The DSI answered immediately

'Boyd'

'Sir its Spence'

The older man's voice instantly became even more professional as he registered the urgency in his colleague's tone.

'What is it Spence? Is Stella alright?'

'Yes sir she's fine. Its just…' he prepared to give Boyd the few words he certainly wasn't expecting to hear '… Charlotte Thompson has basically given Stella a full confession'

'Are you sure?'

'I know sir. Stella struck up a conversation with her and before we knew it she basically told us everything we know about the case claiming she was a novelist and it's the storyline for a book she's just finished.'

'What?'

'Well that was our reaction but she's detailed exactly what we know bar the victim's names, and some more information that we haven't got round to uncovering yet.'

Boyd remained silent on the other end of the phone. He was rapidly trying to piece together what Spence had just relayed with what they already had on Mrs Thompson whilst simultaneously trying to figure out their next step.

'Spence, you've got all this recorded right?'

'Yep, stuck to all the procedures and this will all be covered under information gained from undercover operations – it's all perfectly kosher'

'Good. Right let them finish and then you and Stella get back to the office and if we work through the night then the arrest warrant may be on the desk first thing tomorrow'

'Sir'

Spence placed his mobile back onto the desk and continued observing Stella. The young DC was in her element, this case could make her career.

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Stella propped herself up on one elbow as she took the slim hand Charlotte Thompson had extended to her. Their conversation had drawn to a natural close and the other woman was moving from her lounger.

'I'm sorry not to have introduced myself earlier; I got so caught up in telling you about that book. I'm Charlotte Thompson.'

'Stella Goodman'

Stella didn't hesitate in given her own name, there was no way she would know what her real reason for being here was just from that. Charlotte Thompson smiled graciously and retrieved her slippers before standing to leave.

'Well I guess I'll be seeing you around here tomorrow Stella'

'I've no inclination to swap all this for home and work just yet'

As she answered, Stella hoped Boyd would let her return tomorrow. She didn't even care about another opportunity to lounge around the spa, she just knew she could crack the case – preferably without Boyd's stomping and screaming interrogation act back at CCHQ.

Once the other woman had left the terrace, she spoke softly into the mike she knew was hidden beneath her bathrobe.

'You still breathing Spence?'

'Yep and ten out of ten for a pretty good afternoon's work I think'

'I'm coming back now, see you when I'm wearing proper shoes rather than these embarrassing white things.'

Stella maintained her façade of relaxed contemplation as she left the pool area and began retracing her earlier steps through the hallways of the spa complex. The case had certainly taken an unexpected but very welcome twist. She couldn't help an overjoyed grin spreading across her face as she started planning her final moves.

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	14. Chapter 14

**Here it is guys, the final chapter! I just want to say thanks very much to everyone who has reviewed and commented along the way - they are all much appreciated.**

**Also, there is a certain amount of fluff in this chapter, so if you wanted it all to be completely doom and gloom then you'll be disappointed.**

**Disclaimer: WTD is the BBC's but this story is mine.**

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Back at CCHQ the bullpen was a hive of activity as Spence and Stella informed the others about their meeting with Charlotte Thompson, Grace shared a few theories about the family house, Eve tried to collate her evidence and other scientific findings, and Boyd generally got in everyone's way and needing everything explaining at least twice. The fact that Stella and Eve also had some extremely urgent Boyd/Grace gossip to discuss didn't make things any easier as neither could catch the other's eye, keep a watch on the couple and present their findings all at the same time.

Finally, Boyd reverted to acting his usual grouchy self, and after a moment's tantrum some semblance of normality returned.

'Spence, Stella we know about your little session with Mrs Thompson and we know about the murders, but we need to link them up.'

'That's what we're trying to do sir, but there's just so much all of a sudden' Stella knew she shouldn't really have commented but it was already eleven at night and all she wanted to do was sleep in her own bed.

'In case it has slipped your notice DC Goodman, this case is rather more important for us than usual. I want it so watertight that not one single drop escapes.'

With that Boyd stormed into his office once more, leaving the rest of the team to carry on where they'd left off.

Eve began first.

'Going through the house I did find a few items of significance, but none of it is earth shattering.

'Well I suppose we can't all be perfect' blurted Spence, with the most self-congratulatory grin known to man plastered across his face.

'Hey, I was the one wheedling the information out of her Spence' protested Stella 'you just sat in an office and listened'

'She's got you there' joined in Eve 'nothing but an office boy really'

Before Spence could reply, Grace interrupted their teasing.

'I know it's been a long day guys, but the sooner you all stop squabbling the sooner we can go home'

The three younger team members immediately resumed the expressions of scolded children.

'Sorry Mum' they chorused.

Grace laughed and covered her face with her hands

'What am I going to do with you? You're worse than my real kids. Anyway, Eve you can continue.'

The pathologist resumed her description of her day's findings, adding notes to the boardthingee when clear links could be made to the three victims and their murderer.

'So basically we found quite quantity of Diazepam, more perfume than one woman could ever use without drinking it, pretty detailed records about donors and sponsors of the political party, an address book with our three victim's contact details in it, and just about everything with the Champneys' label that you could dream of buying.'

'Phew quite a list there Eve' whistled Spence in admiration of his colleague.

'But' continued Eve 'we can only use this evidence if there is an absolutely unbreakable link between Mrs Thompson and the three victims – we don't want to give her husband or Christie any room for argument.'

The team fell quiet for a few moments as they each tried to piece everything together in their minds and think of logical explanations and reasons for it all. It was Grace who broke the silence.

'To add to what we've managed to get so far, I've completed my profile and it fits with the method and motives for killing. It's also a near perfect description of our Mrs Thompson.'

The profiler placed a copy of her psychological profile on the main desk. When she looked up at her younger colleagues they each had the same glint in their eyes and weary expression – that of an exhausted policeman who knows they are very close to cracking a case.

'Why don't you lot go home and get a few hours sleep? We won't be able to get any warrants until the morning and himself will want to go over everything another couple of hundred times anyway.'

Spence stifled a huge yawn 'Thanks Grace'

The profiler went into her office as they all grabbed their coats and made a bid for freedom. They may have been completely drained, but they could certainly move when the promise of a warm, cosy bed was waiting. Spence went first, shaking his head with exasperation when he noticed Eve and Stella gossiping like a couple of old ladies behind him.

'But what did they say when they remembered you were in the car'

'Well Boyd tried to laugh it off like usual, but Grace didn't say a word and I swear she was blushing!'

'Oh my God'

'Exactly. And that's not all.' The pathologist paused for dramatic effect as her colleague remained open-mouthed.

'When we were at the Thompson house and I'd finished in the kitchen, I went into the hall and caught the end of a conversation.'

Eve had reached her car and Spence was waiting for Stella with the engine already running, but neither was going home without sharing the day's most pressing news.

'I remember the exact words. Grace asked if Boyd was ready to go up to the bedroom – a perfectly reasonable question seeing as we were searching a house. But, Boyd answered saying he thought she'd never ask!'

'I'm guessing she didn't slap him?'

'Nope didn't even reply, just let him get away with it completely.'

'And now we've just left them in the office all alone again.'

The pathologist grinned wickedly 'Well there's more chance of something happening in the bullpen than my lab.'

Both women began laughing as they heard an anguished howl from the direction of Spence's open window.

'Don't you two ever stop? Its half past bloody midnight, we're just about to close probably _the _most important case of our careers and you're still cackling about Boyd's sex life.'

* * *

**Wtd wtd wtd wtd wtd wtd **

The next morning everyone arrived extra early. Despite their late nights, the prospect of closing the case and proving their unit's value was certainly worth the inconvenience of not much sleep and a few more bags under their eyes.

The bullpen was eerily quiet as Boyd had not yet appeared, but then again neither had Grace which Stella and Eve picked up on immediately. However their insinuating comments and glances soon stopped when their Boss and the profiler walked in. Boyd marched straight to his office as usual but Grace greeted them cheerily before dumping her coat and bag on her desk.

'Have I interrupted something?' Grace raised an eyebrow enquiringly and she took in Eve and Stella's guilty expression, and Spence's reluctance to look anywhere other than at the boardthingee.

'erm no. We were just chatting about, er, something' Stella began to turn red and stutter under the profiler's direct gaze.

Grace sighed 'You've never been very good at lying Stella. If there's something you want to know then just ask.'

'Oh it was just general chat about that Champneys place and health spas – that sort of thing' Eve rescued her colleague confidently. 'We thought we might pay a visit when the case is closed'

Grace clearly didn't look convinced, but she dropped the questions and went into Boyd's office instead – she knew full well what the topic of conversation had been.

Boyd looked up from his desk as the profiler walked in and gently closed the door behind her.

'I guess we've made the morning gossip then?'

'I don't think we're ever out of it'

'Women'

Grace fixed Boyd with one of her best glares even though she knew he was only winding her up. He backtracked quickly.

'What I meant to say was that women are just so much more observant than men its hard to keep anything a secret for longer than five minutes before their gossip radar kicks in.'

Luckily the phone rang at just that moment and he was rescued from incurring anymore of Grace's wrath.

* * *

**Wtd wtd wtd wtd wtd wtd **

DSI Boyd marched down the marble hallway of the health resort looking thoroughly out of place. He had Christie's full backing and Charlotte Thompson's arrest warrant in the inside pocket of his coat. As he and Spence made their way to her private suite he couldn't help feeling just a little satisfied at how irritated David Thompson had sounded on the phone that morning.

'Its Suite 14 sir' said Spence, barely holding his excitement in check.

They stopped in front of the dark wooden door and waited a fraction of a second before Boyd knocked impatiently,

'Charlotte Thompson? This is the police so open up'

He didn't have to knock again as there was the sound of a key turning in the lock and immaculately attired Mrs Thompson appeared before them – clearly not pleased at being so rudely interrupted.

'Yes Officer whatever is the matter?'

'Its Detective Superintendent thank you very much'

Boyd barged into the suite with his usual grace and tact before producing the warrant.

'I have warrant for your arrest Mrs Thompson. Spence do the procedure and then we can get her down to the station for some pretty intense questioning.'

Spencer recited the words one more time and secured the handcuffs around the woman's slender wrists. She was remarkably calm and waited until his speech was complete before addressing Boyd in the tone one immediately associates with a headteacher dealing with particularly annoying parents.

'Are you going to explain why I'm being arrested Mr Boyd, or is that going to be a kept a surprise until we reach your grubby little police station.'

Boyd refused to lose his temper with her just yet and took a breath before speaking.

'We suspect, in fact we have hard proof, that you murdered Hannah Clements, Rachel Hall and Sophie Rawlings four years ago and left their bodies to be discovered by neighbours and loved ones.'

Again Charlotte showed no surprise at the DSI's words, she merely shrugged her shoulders.

'Oh that business. I thought it would all be water under the bridge by now, but obviously I was wrong. I trust you will inform my husband of these developments? You know he's about to become your new Minister for Justice?'

'Don't worry I've already told him exactly what you're guilty of' muttered Boyd 'and clearly no-one has informed you that your husband has been suspended from his political duties as a result of your actions.'

'Oh well, he never really had much of a backbone. I'm not sure what I ever saw in him.'

Boyd indicated that the room be locked and left untouched before striding back down the hallway with Spence and their suspect close behind.

Once they were in the car he began to focus on the questioning ahead. Charlotte Thompson was clearly one cool and confident woman – Grace would have a field day.

* * *

**Wtd wtd wtd wtd wtd wtd**

Commissioner Christie stood behind the glass wall of the interview room, silently observing the woman explaining her actions with no more concern as if she had left her recycling bins out on the wrong morning.

Spence, Stella and Eve all stood a short distance away from him, shooting nervous glances every few minutes whilst trying to look as professional as they possible could in the near-dark box they were confined to.

In the interview room, Boyd and Grace were questioning Charlotte Thompson, completely unawares of the Commissioner's proximity.

'Like I've already told you Mr Boyd' explained Charlotte coolly 'I confess that I did befriend those three women at the spa and persuaded them to donate to my husband's political party. I also confess that I killed them. I don't know why. I really don't see why you keep asking all these questions.'

Grace shot a warning glance at Boyd but luckily he didn't rise to the bait and kept his temper in check.

'And like I have already told you Mrs Thompson, we need to go over everything thoroughly. We have a lot of evidence to get through so the less you interrupt the quicker it will be over with. Dr Foley please continue.'

'Mrs Thompson we have ascertained that the three women died of fatal overdoses of the commonly prescribed sleeping pill – Diazepam. You also admit to that. What we know need to know is why you chose to make you victims bathe beforehand, and why there was such liberal usage of Chanel No.5? You're obviously an intelligent woman Mrs Thompson, but the latter is a rather obvious calling card.'

'On the contrary, Chanel No.5 is the bestselling perfume of all time certainly not an uncommon scent. And who said I made them bathe? If you've ever been to a Champneys Spa then you'd know that one of the key principles they tell you is to always bathe before bed – it cleanses all impurities and helps you get a full night's sleep. I merely arrived afterwards.' She leant back in her seat and studied the two people across the table from her. 'By my watch I'd say that you've been questioning me for two hours and the law requires you to allow me a break and something to eat and drink. I wouldn't want you to lose your jobs after all your hard work.'

Boyd recorded the interview suspension time and stood to leave, holding the door for Grace who was right behind him. He was already shouting for Stella to fetch Mrs Thompson's food and drink as they opened the door to the observation room.

Commissioner Christie stepped forward.

'Good Afternoon DSI Boyd'

Boyd took a few seconds to recover his senses whilst Grace nodded to the Commissioner and accompanied Stella back to the bullpen.

'Good afternoon sir, I wasn't aware that you were in the building, or observing my interview.'

'No you weren't. Good work so far Boyd; I trust I can leave you to conduct the final interview by the book?'

Spence and Eve had to force themselves not to laugh with great difficulty, but Boyd remained straight-faced.

'You can sir. The case should be closed within the next few hours.'

'Glad to hear it.'

With that, the Commissioner exited the room and made his way to the car where his driver was ready and waiting.

* * *

**Wtd wtd wtd wtd wtd wtd**

Boyd leant forward on his desk and put his face in his hands. It had certainly been a trying few weeks. The relief he felt when Charlotte had confessed and they could officially close the No.5 case was a giant weight off his shoulders. If CCHQ was closed down he didn't think he would ever really forgive himself.

He heard his door open and someone enter the office.

'Don't I ever get a moment's peace anymore?'

'Not if I have anything to do with it.'

He looked up at the woman stood in front of him and smiled. He would never let anyone else speak to him like that, and she knew it.

'I guess you want to remind me about the dinner I owe you?'

'And the three bottles of wine.'

'And the three bottles of wine' he stood up and sighed in mock-exasperation 'Since the rest of the team have gone home, I seem to have received Christie's blessing and we've closed the case then I suppose I can't really say no.'

Grace handed him his coat and waited a moment before replying cheekily.

'Not unless you have something better in mind?'

Boyd deadpanned 'I'm sure I have no idea what you're suggesting Dr Foley. Anyway I booked the table for 7.30 so you'll just have to wait.'

Grace shrugged, and went to retrieve her bag from her own office.

'Stella and Eve were right after all'

Boyd charged out of his office, casting suspicious glances around the bullpen as if he expected the two women to be hiding under one of the desks.

'Stella and Eve were right about what Grace?'

'Oh nothing, just their usual girly chat'

'Grace what have you all been saying about me? I'm getting paranoid now.'

The profiler linked her arm through his as they walked from the CCHQ. She wasn't going to give in that easily.

'I guess you'd have to ask them when they've returned from their weekend at the spa'.

Boyd groaned 'well I guess the only option is for me to bribe it out of you'

'Pretty much'

'How about four bottles of wine?'

'Boyd who do you think I am?'

'How about four bottles of wine, breakfast in bed… and a ring?'

Grace stopped walking and turned to face him, shock written across her face. She tried to speak but her mouth only opened and closed.

'Dr Foley lost for words, that doesn't happen very often.'

He looked so pleased with himself but so sincere that Grace could only whisper, 'Peter I… are you serious?'

He took both of her hands in his, 'Of course'

Grace nodded, still unable to speak.

Boyd placed one hand on the small of her back and continued walking towards his car.

'Good. Now whatever Stella and Eve said has to be worth it or else they'll be on paperwork for the next year.'

**Wtd wtd wtd wtd wtd wtd**


End file.
